“I don't think that's for me. I'm too busy taking kids to school and answering phones for Grace,” Charles said with a smile, but he had a good time, and even chatted for a few moments with the President, who said he was familiar with Charles's law firm, and complimented him on his handling of a difficult matter the year before that involved some government contracts.

After dinner, they danced, and there was a wonderful children's chorus to sing carols. They were the cutest kids Grace had ever seen, and for a minute they made her homesick for their children.

The congressman sought Charles out again before they left and told him to think about it again. “The political arena needs you, Charles. I'd be happy to talk to you about it anytime you like.” But Charles was insistent that he was happy at his law firm. “It's a big world out there, a lot bigger than Park Avenue and Wall Street. One forgets that in one's ivory tower at times. You could do a lot of good, there are some important issues at hand. I'll call you,” he said, and moved on, and Charles and Grace went back to the Willard at midnight. It had been a wonderful evening, and she'd been given a handsome plaque to commend her for her unselfish gifts to children.

“I'll have to show this to the kids the next time they tell me how mean I am,” she smiled, and set it down on a table in their hotel suite. She was glad they had come after all. She had really enjoyed it, and then as they lay in bed, talking about the people they'd met, and how impressive it was to be in the company of the President and the First Lady, she asked Charles about his congressman friend.

“Roger?” he asked casually. “He used to be a partner in the firm. He's a good man, I always liked him.”

“What about what he said?” She was curious about Charles's reaction.

“About going into politics?” He looked amused. “I don't think so.”

“Why not? You'd be great at it.”

“Maybe I'll run for president one day. You'd make a beautiful first lady,” he teased, and then he turned to her with love on his mind, and kissed her hungrily, and as always she was quick to return his passion.

They were back in New York by two o'clock the next afternoon. Charles was in a festive mood, and decided not to go back to his office. He went home with Grace instead, and the children were delighted to see them. They jumped all over them and wanted to know what their parents had brought them from the trip.

“Absolutely nothing,” Charles lied with a blank stare, and they squealed in disbelief. Their children knew them better. They had bought some toys and souvenirs for them at the airport. Whenever Charles went away on business, which was rare, he never came back empty-handed. And Grace told them what the White House had been like, and about the children who sang there, and the Christmas tree all lit up on the White House lawn.

“What did they sing?” Andrew wanted to know, but like the little lady she was, Abigail wanted to know what they were wearing. The children were five and six then.

Christmas was the following week, and that weekend they put up the tree, and it looked beautiful when they finished it. She and Charles put the ornaments up high, and the children decorated everything within reach below that, and strung popcorn and cranberries, which was a tradition they loved.

Grace took them ice-skating at Rockefeller Plaza, and to see Santa Claus at Saks, and all the beautifully decorated windows on Fifth Avenue once school was out, and they even dropped in on Daddy at work, and took him out to lunch. They went to Serendipity on Sixtieth Street between Second and Third Avenues, and had huge hot dogs and giant ice-cream sodas. Grace ordered a banana split and Charles laughed, remembering the banana split he'd bought her the first time they went away for the weekend. This time she finished all of it, and he complimented her for being a member of the clean plate club.

“Are you making fun of me?” she grinned at him, with a spot of whipped cream on her nose. Abigail chuckled looking at her, and even Andrew loved it.

“Certainly not. I think it's wonderful that you didn't waste a bit of it” Charles smiled, feeling happy and young.

“Be nice, or I'll order another one.” But she was as thin as she'd ever been, until after the New Year, when she explained that she couldn't get into any of her clothes. She had been answering the hot line several times a week over the holidays, she knew what an important time it was for troubled families and helpless kids, and she wanted to do it herself as much as she could. And as they all did, while she was answering phones at all hours, she sat around and ate cookies and popcorn, particularly at Christmas.

“I feel huge,” she said miserably, zipping up her jeans to go for a walk in the park with him at the end of a lazy weekend.

“Most women would love to be as ‘huge’ as you are.” In spite of two children, and the fact that she had turned thirty that year, she still looked like a model. And he had just turned fifty and was as handsome as ever.

They were a good-looking couple as they strolled along. She was wearing a big cozy fox hat, and a fox jacket he had given her for Christmas. It was perfect for the frigid New York winter.

There was snow on the ground in the park, and they had left the kids at home with a sitter for a few hours because the housekeeper was away. They liked to go for long walks sometimes on Sundays, or take a cab down to SoHo and go to a coffeehouse, or have lunch and browse through galleries looking at paintings or sculpture.

But this afternoon, they were content to stroll, and eventually wound up at the Plaza Hotel. They decided to go in and have some hot chocolate in the Palm Court. And they walked into the elegant old hotel hand in hand, talking softly.

“The kids will never forgive us if they find out,” Grace said guiltily. They loved the Palm Court. But it was romantic being alone with him. She was talking about some plans she had for “Help Kids!” for the next year, to expand it further. She was always trying to broaden their outreach. And as she chatted with him, she devoured an entire plate of cookies and two hot chocolates with whipped cream. And as soon as she finished them, she felt sick, and was sorry she'd eaten.

“You're as bad as Andrew,” Charles laughed. He loved being with her, she was like a girl to him, and at the same time very much a woman.

When they left the Plaza, he hailed a hansom cab, and had it drive them home, as they snuggled in the back, kissing and whispering and giggling under heavy blankets, just like teenagers, or honeymooners. And when they got to the house, he ran in to get the kids, and let them pet the horse. And then the driver agreed to take them around the block for an additional fee, and the four of them rode around the block to the house again. And then they went inside, and the sitter left, and Grace made pasta for dinner.

She was busy for the next few weeks, with new plans, and keeping up with the children. But she was surprised to find that she was exhausted all the time, so much so that she even skipped two shifts on the hot line, which was rare for her. And when Charles noticed it, he was worried, and asked about it

“Are you all right?” He worried sometimes that her past life, and the beating outside St. Andrew's, would take a toll on her one day, and whenever she was sick, it really scared him.

“Of course I am,” she said, but the circles under her eyes, and her pallor, didn't convince him. She hardly ever suffered from asthma anymore, but she was starting to look the way she had when he first met her. A little too drawn and a little too serious, and not entirely healthy.

“I want you to go to the doctor,” he insisted.

“I'm fine,” she said stubbornly.

“I mean it,” he said sternly.

“Okay. Okay.” But she didn't do anything about it, and insisted that she was busy. Finally, he made an appointment himself and told her he'd take her there if she didn't go the following morning. It was a month after Christmas by then, and she was in the midst of a big fund drive for “Help Kids!” She had a thousand calls to make, and a million people to visit “For heaven's sake,” she said irritably when he reminded her again the next morning. “I'm just tired, that's all. It's no big deal. What are you so upset about?” she snapped at him, but he took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

“Do you have any idea how important you are to me, and this family? I love you, Grace. Don't screw around with your health. I need you.’ *

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I'll go.” But she always hated going to the doctor. Doctors still reminded her of bad experiences, of being raped, and her mother dying, and the night she killed her father, and even when she'd been in Bellevue after the attack at St. Andrew's. To Grace, except for the babies she'd had, doctors never meant anything pleasant.

“Any idea what might be wrong? How do you feel?” their family doctor asked her pleasantly. He was a middle-aged man with an intelligent face and an easy disposition. He knew nothing of Grace's past, or her dislike for doctors.

“I feel fine. I'm just tired, and Charles is hysterical.” She smiled.

“He's right to be concerned. Anything else except fatigue?” She thought about it and shrugged.

“Nothing much. A little dizziness, some headaches.” She made light of it, but the truth was she had been very dizzy more than once lately, and several times she had been sick to her stomach. She thought it was nervous tension over their fund drive. “I've been pretty busy.”

“Maybe you need some time off.” He smiled. He gave her some vitamins, checked her blood count and it was fine. He didn't want to run any serious tests. She was obviously young and healthy, and her blood pressure was low, which accounted for the dizziness and headaches. “Eat lots of red meat,” he advised, “and eat your spinach.” He said to say hello to Charles, and she called from the phone outside to tell Charles she was fine. And then feeling better than she had in a while, she walked home in the brisk January air. It was cold and crisp and sunny, and she felt wonderful and strong as she walked along, feeling stupid for even having gone to see the doctor. She smiled thinking of what good care Charles took of her and how lucky she was, as she turned the corner and walked toward their town house. She felt a little light-headed as she did, but it was no worse than it had been before, until she reached their front door, and she suddenly found she was so dizzy, she could hardly stand. She reached out to steady herself, and found herself clutching an elderly man who stared at her strangely. She looked at him as though she didn't see him at all, and then she took two steps toward her house, said something unintelligible, and collapsed, unconscious, to the sidewalk.